


wait until you feel ready

by magnetocent



Category: DCU (Comics), Green Lantern (Comics), The Flash (Comics)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Coming Out, Friends to Lovers, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Making Out, do not copy to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 10:25:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17660912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnetocent/pseuds/magnetocent
Summary: Barry has something on his mind, which leads to self-discovery and discovering his best friend.





	wait until you feel ready

**Author's Note:**

> this was written as a way to battle some deep depressive thoughts. it's probably not the best thing i've written, but i wrote it and i finished it despite not wanting to do anything so...here it is i guess. pacing is a bit off, and ends abruptly.

The evening starts out like any other Friday night, or a normal night for any normal civilian. For Hal and Barry, it’s a rare night where nothing gets them shooting out of their seats and into the streets. No ring chirping and ordering Hal into the depths of the universe. Barry’s done work early for once, and at the behest of Patty, leaves the cold case files at his desk. The only unfortunate thing in Hal’s mind is that there’s no game for them to watch as they hang out. But beggars can’t be choosers.

Instead, they catch some of the sitcoms that are on, seeing which ones are actually good and which ones are overrated. So far, it’s been pretty chill. It’s nice to be able to relax once in a while and hang out without talking about superheroics. Hal’s enjoying himself, and Barry seems to be as well at first. However, after a few hours, there’s a noticeable vibration through the couch. 

Hal turns his attention from the TV to the man beside him. The first thing he notices is the blurred lines of his body. Soft and almost glowing. A telltale sign of Barry’s mind going into overdrive. Typically, it’s something that will stop in a few seconds, nothing Hal really bothers himself with, but this time it stretches on. It’s kind of annoying, so he has to say something.

“Something on your mind, dude?”

“Hm?” Barry hums, when his vibrations stop, “Oh, uh. No, nothing.”

His arms come up to cross over his chest. Hal’s eyebrow raises slightly as he studies his friend. 

“You sure about that, blurry boy?” he prods, flicking Barry’s ear when the first signs of vibration start up again. Barry jerks; when he sits up it’s like Hal’s swiping from one photo in his phone to another. One image of his friend melding with the couch, then in the next, straight up and rigid.

“Well, I--,” Barry starts, “I wanted to ask you something.”

He pauses, chewing his lip in thought. His fingers come up to his mouth before his hand waves out and he shrugs a shoulder, “But it’s weird, I don’t know.”

“Yo, Bar. Look at who you’re talking to,” Hal chides, gesturing to himself, “Nothing is weird--”

“Weird to you anymore.” Barry cuts him off, “Yeah. I know.”

“Yeah,” Hal nods, “So, what’s up?”

It takes a while for Barry to answer, and Hal’s curiosity tests the limits of his very low patience level. But he waits. It’s clear that any excessive hounding on his part will scare his friend off. He wonders if this is anything like what it might be like for Barry to wait in between words. Mere milliseconds stretching on into minutes into hours. His fingers begin to fidget with the fabric of the couch before Barry opens his mouth.

“It--it’s normal to--” he says, stumbling over his words, “For a guy to—like--” 

He stops again, reaching to twirl his hand in a slow circle in front of himself as he speaks the next word, “Experiment.”

Internally, Hal laughs. He knows Barry isn’t an innocent angel, that he’s seen more than anyone should and knows more than his Midwestern sensibilities would like to suggest. It’s just those sensibilities – the politeness toward anything impolite – that gets him. 

He smirks and takes advantage of the vague wording, “Why are you asking me, you’re the scientist.”

Barry sighs immediately, sending him an unimpressed frown, “You know what I mean.”

“Do I?” Hal asks with feigned innocence. Their eyes meet in a standoff, Hal’s shit-eating grin rivaling Barry’s stony gaze before eventually, Barry yields and he tries again.

“It’s normal for there to be an experimental period in a young adult’s life,” he says, somewhat questioning. 

“Yeah, it’s called college.” Hal half-jokes, “But your entire life is about experimenting, man. Don’t limit yourself just because you turned thirty.”

Then he jabs a finger to Barry’s shoulder, “Buy a motorcycle.”

His friend lets out a laugh at that, posture relaxing again.

“I’ll save that for my mid-life crisis,” he says. Then he shakes his head, leaning back more comfortably in his seat, “Okay, that’s what I thought. Thank you.”

Hal pats him on the knee, “Anytime.”

Then Barry goes back to watching the show. Hal, however, has not yet had his curiosity sated. There’s no way Barry can bring up his experimental years and not expect  _Hal Jordan_  to just leave it at that. No, Hal has to get all the dirty details. 

“So...” he drawls, “You gonna explain what that was about?”

Barry shrugs, not taking his eyes from the TV, “Nah, it’s not important.”

Hal sighs, shifting in his seat to face him, arm on the back of the couch to prop his head on, “Yeah, but you were so twitchy, you got me all curious.”

Barry’s lips turn up a bit, keeping a smile in check. He shakes his head, and once again his arms cross over his chest. 

“Iris and I were just talking about stuff. She said I--” he cuts himself off abruptly, eyes widening before he tries to casually play it off, “Um--she didn’t think my experimenting was normal.”

Hal doesn’t buy it. He takes a second, narrowing his eyes before responding, “Really.”

“Yeah,” Barry replies, voice too high and still not meeting Hal’s gaze. And Hal takes a moment to wonder if maybe he should leave it. If it’s so much that Barry isn’t comfortable telling him, he shouldn’t pry. But they both just started their thirties, college was a long time ago for both of them. Barry’s just embarrassed and Hal needs more ammo in his roasting tank. So, he pries.

“What kind of experimenting are we talking about.” he asks, lifting his head, “Like, alcohol? Drugs? Sex?”

Barry’s face turns beet red at the word. Hal grins, tongue sticking through his teeth.

“It was sex.”

Barry shakes his head quickly, “No.”

“Yes.” Hal counters, grinning bigger than ever, “Oh man! I was just curious about what kind of partying you got up to, but now I’m just  _dying_  to know.”

“Well, you aren’t going to know.”

Hal groans, reeling back dramatically, throwing himself to lie on the space behind him before sitting back up, “C’mon! Iris gets to know.” 

Barry shakes his head once more, but it doesn’t matter because a thought occurs to Hal. 

“Iris knows,” he repeats, “I can ask her.”

He goes to get up, get his phone from his jacket pocket, but he’s grabbed by the belt and pulled back down before he can get even a step further.

“Do  _not_ ,” Barry demands. When Hal whines at him he rolls his eyes, a fond smile just gracing his lips.

“Bar, I won’t judge.” He begs, “I’ve done some freaky stuff, you know that.”

“It wasn’t  _freaky_ ,” Barry replies in a way that implies he’s remembering what ‘freaky’ can mean to an intergalactic space cop, “It was...normal.”

“If it was so normal than what’s the issue.” Hal asks genuinely, “Why can’t you tell me?”

Barry is silent. His eyes flit back and forth between Hal’s as he thinks, and his lip takes up residence between his teeth again. After a second, he breathes heavily through his nose.

“I--I did some stuff with—with another guy.” He mumbles. Hal is actually a bit taken aback at the confession, and his eyebrows raise.

“ _You_  did?” he asks.

“Yeah?” Barry replies, confused. 

“Huh.”

That’s  _interesting_  information, though nothing really fun and exciting for Hal. Nothing he can really use when they playfully rib at each other. He himself experimented as a young guy, though he’s not sure if he can call it experimenting when he still picks up men every now and then. He’s probably bi, though labels have never been important to him. He was hoping for something like—well, he’s not sure. He can’t imagine Barry agreeing to much sexually outside of what people usually do. And he’s imagined it quite a few times. 

“That’s normal, dude,” he says, then a thought occurs to him, “Why would Iris say that’s not normal?”

Barry’s eyebrows crease together, “She didn’t say that, she said that it might not have been just an experiment.” 

Ignoring the fact that Barry did indeed say she said that for the more important issue, Hal replies, “There’s definitely a reason for that.”

“I—no,” Barry protest, “No, it was just…”

“How much did you do?” Hal interrupts. 

Barry blinks, “What?”

“What did you guys do? How far did you go?” Hal explains better, only to receive a wide-eyed, blank stare, “What?”

After a moment, Barry snaps out of it, stuttering around half words and sounds. He gets redder and redder until Hal puts up a hand to stop him talking.

“Ok, don’t fuckin’ explode.” 

“I just—” Barry says, “who asks that?”

“Your best friend?” Hal suggests, obviously. Barry purses his lips, averting his gaze as he realizes Hal is right, this is just stuff they talk about all the time, though it’s more often Hal doing the talking. He sighs, rubbing at his cheek. 

“We--did  _stuff_?” 

Hal groans, bringing his hands up to scrub at his own face harshly.

“God it’s like pulling teeth!” he exclaims then, without any bullshit, asks, “Did you kiss?”

Barry gapes at him for a second before nodding, “Yeah.”

“Touch?” Hal continues, “Like, hand on leg, chest, whatever?”

Nodding again, Barry answers, “Yes.”

“Clothes come off?” Hal asks then. It takes a bit longer for Barry to answer this time, but to his credit, he does. 

“Yeah.”

Straight to the point, Hal continues on, “Skin on skin, hand on dick?” 

There isn’t an answer this time. Barry turns even redder than before, chews his lip, and keeps his gaze on a far spot.

“Taking that as a yes.” Hal tells him, “Did you come?”

There’s a brief moment where Barry’s eyes meet his, and it’s all the answer Hal needs. He regrets the way he went about getting information out of his friend, would rather have had the man just tell him through his own volition. But this isn’t something Barry usually talks about, and going by how hard it was to get the conversation started, this would have never come up in their lifetimes. 

And usually Hal would be fine with that, not everything needs to be told. But he trusts Iris. She’s a journalist—trained herself to see things most people would look past—and she knows this territory, being a lesbian. And most importantly, she knows Barry. There’s no one who knows him better than her. And only a few who could care about him and his happiness and wellbeing as much as she can.  Hal’s one of those people. And he knows enough to see that there’s something more going on here. 

He sits back, finished with his interrogation, and brings a soft smile to his face again.

“Alright.” he says, “See, you know you can do all that stuff and have it just be a one-time thing.”

Barry lifts his gaze to him again, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Hal nods, “But Iris knows you too well. So do I. So, I’m siding with her on this.”

“It was only once!” Barry protests, but he’s not offended. He’s red, and he’s shoved himself back into the cushions of the couch, away from confrontation and into a soft, safe cocoon. His eyes are wide, and they’re glassy and can’t stop flitting away from Hal’s own. And it makes Hal frown, wondering at the deep-seated regressive morals that may have been placed in Barry’s mind at a young age to make him so scared.

“Who was it with?” he asks, softly this time.  

Hesitation creeps into Barry’s answer, “You don’t know him.”

“Barry, come on.” Hal pleads, “It’s okay.”

“It was Manuel.”

Hal purses his lips, nodding, “Only once?”

“He left for the CIA before we could see each other again,” Barry explains, though it’s apparent right after that he didn’t mean to be that honest. He darts his gaze away again, tensely rubbing his hands over his thighs.

“So, you wanted to do it again,” Hal asks with a tilt of his head. 

Barry swallows heavily, bottom lip trembling a bit before he answers, “I don’t know.”

“Barry, I know you,” Hal reiterates, “You don’t do shit like that with someone you care about just for fun.”

“Yeah,” Barry admits then with a sigh, “Yeah I did.” 

“Hey,” Hal says, reaching and grasping at Barry’s shoulder. He rubs his thumb into the tense muscle, comforting, “That’s alright, Bar. This is all perfectly normal.” 

There’s a short silence after, where Barry looks to him, searching. As if he's expecting a ‘Gotcha! You freak!’ coming, and Hal makes sure to hold his gaze, so he knows what he said was true, and that he can trust him. Then Barry lets out the breath he’s holding, his shoulders relax and he nods. Hal rubs at his shoulder, and ruffles his hair a bit, before wrapping his arm around him and giving him a friendly squeeze. 

Barry leans into it, but it’s obvious his nerves are still fried. There’s still tension where his arms are crossed, and his face is still red. He’s not really keeping his gaze steady on anything, allowing it to flit back and forth at a speed just past human, while his teeth gnaw at his lower lip. He’s thinking too much for Hal’s liking. 

He squeezes him again, jostling him a bit, “I got something that’ll settle those nerves.”

About an hour later, after a couple drinks of Hal’s best H'lven liquor, the two find themselves sprawled out on the floor between the couch and the coffee table. The TV has been turned off, both favouring companionable silence over the inane babbling of prime-time sitcoms. Barry hasn’t said much about their conversation, and Hal doesn’t try to pry this time, letting the half-confession sit and process for both of them.

He finishes his last sip of the liquor in his glass, setting it on the table in front of him before asking, “Feeling better?”

Barry hums a positive sound, staring dazedly at nothing in particular, before replying, “Thanks for being--well, you.”

He turns to give Hal a smile, that he returns easily.

“Thank you for eventually trusting me enough to be me.” He says in return, “And you know, trusting me.”

“Same,” Barry replies. 

The silence returns as Barry finishes off his own glass. Hal offers more, but it’s waved off, and he decides he’s probably had enough too, thinking about what he might do if he gets too drunk, given the events of the night.

And he feels like they aren’t quite done yet, talking it through. Part of his reason to pull out the liquor was to help relax his friend, sure, but he also wanted him a bit more pliable. To get him more comfortable with opening up to something he’s kept quiet for so long. When they first started drinking, Barry mentioned how Iris had suggested he’d talk to Hal about it. He figures he’ll do his best for her to get their friend talking as much as he can, if only to normalize everything for him.

Over the past hour, he’s been trying to think of ways to subtly get Bary talking again, but everyone and their mothers know that subtlety isn’t Hal’s forte, so he decides to just barrel in like always.

“So, like...” he trails off for a moment, “ _Manuel_.”

Barry raises an eyebrow, “What about him?”

“What was he like?” Hal asks. 

Barry pauses at the question, taking time to think about it before he answers, “A good friend. My first real friend since...” 

He stops, implication clear, looking down to his hands. 

“Helped me be less in here.” he continues, pointing to his head, small smile on his lips, “He got me out of my shell. Got me into trouble.”

Hal tries to tamp down his jealousy at the clear fondness Barry still has for his old friend, but with the alcohol-provided looseness, it’s hard.

“Became trouble.” he reminds him. The name Mob Rule sitting heavy on his tongue. It’s all he knew of Manuel really, other than he and Barry had been very close friends when they were young. Not the best first impression, that his clones nearly killed him.

Barry has always understood everyone’s distaste for the man, but it’s still a sore spot for him and it shows with every negative comment anyone speaks of him. Even now, as his lips turn down and he picks at a loose thread in his pants. 

“It’s complicated,” he says with a sigh. Trying not to make him close off, Hal leaves it at that, instead focusing at something more important. 

“How did it happen?” he asks quietly. He watches as Barry sits thinking again. It takes him so long to answer, Hal wonders if he just wouldn’t. Would just brush it off again. But he’s not tensing up, and he’s not turning red again. His arms stay in his lap instead of crossing over his chest. 

“It was a long time ago,” he says eventually, just as quietly as Hal asked, “I remember being in my room at Darryl’s, studying for an entrance exam. He had come over to hang out.” 

He takes a minute, eyebrows furrowing in thought.

“I think he got on my case about studying—no, I know he did, because he always did,” he says, that fond smile playing on his lips again as he recounts, “Once he closed one on my nose. Probably because I wasn’t paying attention to him enough. Had a red spot there for a few weeks, and he’d call me Rudolph the Book Nosed Reindeer.”

As much as Hal loves hearing about how rude Manuel used to be, that’s not what he’s asking about, so he waves his hand to get Barry to continue.

Barry apologizes, and gets back to his story, “Um, so we ended up both on the bed. I put on a football game, and he took out some beers he stole from his cousin. I didn’t have any and he called me a loser.” 

Again, he smiles, but it vanishes as quickly as it came, his eyes taking on a distant look as he frowns. 

“I don’t know how it happened. We just, we looked at each other -- I remember wondering why he looked so sad. I wondered if he was going to try again to convince me to join the CIA with him. Next thing I know he’s kissing me, and--” he shrugs, big and looking like he’s trying to shrink into himself, “--and I kissed him back.”

Hal waits as Barry again takes a moment to pause and remember. He’s far off and sad, and Hal can’t help but wonder if there’s something more he isn’t saying. 

“I didn’t think about it. For the first time in my life, I didn’t think about anything but the feeling of him.” he finishes quietly, still gazing far off, until he blinks and clears his throat, eyes returning to his lap.  

“It was your first time,” Hal says, stating more than questioning. Barry’s the type to put an irrational amount of importance on something like that, and the signs are all clear. 

“Yeah.” he confirms, “Well, I mean first time doing anything below the belt.”

Hal hums in understanding, “That’s a pretty significant thing.”

“Yeah.” Barry agrees.

Hal lets that stew in his mind. He would be lying if he said that story didn’t make his opinion of Manuel worse than it was already. That he wasn’t angry with the man for doing that with Barry—knowing him as well as he did—then take off. But the past is the past. And while Barry did remember it fondly, it doesn’t seem like he’s been too caught up on it. At least, not Manuel specifically. He hasn’t entirely made his peace with how their friendship went, that much Hal can tell, but he doesn’t think Barry will ever want the man in that way ever again. 

That conclusion lessens the tension in his chest, so he decides to hold onto it, even if he’s not one hundred percent sure that it’s true. And he’s here working this out with Barry. Manuel left him a long time ago. Keeps leaving him. Hal would never do that. Even if he’s off the planet for months at a time, he’d always be back for his friend. As long as he’s alive he’ll be there.

He clenches his fist into the fabric of his jeans, contemplating another drink. Barry’s voice breaks him from his thoughts as he reaches for his glass and the bottle, and pours another two fingers.

“I’ve never--” He says, but stops. 

Hal turns back to him, “What?”

Again, there’s hesitation. Thumbs fiddling before Barry speaks, “Since I became the Flash, I’ve never...done it as the Flash.”

Hal’s eyebrows furrow in question, he points to Barry with the glass in his hand, “You and Patty never--”

“No, not never. We did, I just--” Barry clarifies, “That entire time it was still a secret.”

Hal nods, moves his arm back to rest over the seat of the couch.

“Oh, I gotcha.” he says, then asks around the glass before taking a drink, “Is it different?” 

Barry gives him a look, “I just said I’ve never done it like that.”

Hal swallows, then explains, “I mean, like—compare when you jacked off before, to like, when you do it now.”

“Oh,” Barry replies, “Yeah that’s different. I get--” 

He cuts himself off, face turning a light shade of pink.

“Nevermind. TMI,” he says instead. When Hal grins at him, he turns his head away, embarrassed.

“Alright.” Hal says, “Keep your secrets.”

Barry chuckles, shaking his head before he’s serious again.

“I’d like to,” he says, honestly, “Eventually, y’know -- be able to do that.”

Hal smirks, bringing his fist to lightly tap at Barry’s arm, “You got some tricks up your sleeve?”

“No,” Barry says around a laugh, then lifts a shoulder in a shrug, “Maybe.” 

He sighs, “I just mean, I’d like to be able to be me again when I’m with someone. Truly myself, no hiding.”

Then he looks to Hal, a dreaminess to his gaze that Hal feels deep in his chest. That makes his pulse race. He downs about half of his glass and nods.

“I feel you.” He says casually, “I’d—me too.”

Fingers tap on the glass. He takes the last little bit into his mouth, letting it sit near his throat before he swallows and sets the glass down on the coffee table. 

When he returns his gaze to Barry, the other man is facing forward again, His hands splayed over his thighs, the fingers of his right tapping a quick rhythm. The air is thick between them. Hal feels a thrill in his gut and groin. He stretches his legs out to lay under the coffee table, opening his posture up, trying to send obvious signals.

It gets Barry’s attention, the man’s gaze darting to Hal’s legs and lap, then up to meet his eyes. 

“Hey,” Hal murmurs.

“Hey,” Barry replies just as quietly. 

Hal leans into the space between them, and Barry meets him halfway. The kiss is soft, sweet. Barry’s hand comes up to touch gently at Hal’s jaw and cheek. It does all sorts of crazy things to his heart and stomach and dick. Even more so when their heads tilt to deepen it, lips parting ever so slightly to introduce tongues. That hand rests more firmly, and Hal’s own comes to press over Barry’s sternum. He can just feel the humming beat of the man’s heart. He smiles into the kiss and moves the hand to the back of Barry’s head, pulling him closer. 

There’s a small moan from him. Hal pulls away for a second to brush their noses together, tilting his head the other way and kissing him again. He uses Barry’s distraction from it to bring himself up and over into his friend’s lap. Barry’s hands find their place over his hips, thumbs needing into his sides.

As the kiss deepens even more, Hal shifts his hips forward. Sitting snug, stomachs and chests and groins pressed together. Barry’s hard, and even if Hal couldn’t tell from the way they’re positioned, he would from the moan and squeezing grip the move produces. He returns it, pulling away again to nip and lick at Barry’s lips. 

They breath hard against each other, hands traveling over shoulders, and backs and wherever they can touch. But when Hal moves in again, Barry avoids the press of lips. It’s not unsurprising, given the circumstances, so Hal doesn’t take it too much to heart. He instead leans his forehead down against Barry’s, letting their noses touch softly as the other man closes his eyes.

“Remember what you said,” Barry murmurs under his breath, “I don’t do this for fun.”

It’s a punch to the gut; a tearing in his chest. He has a reputation, and Barry knows that reputation better than everyone but Oliver. But he would  _never_ —not to Barry. It hurts that he would even think that. 

“I know.” He says, eyes squeezing shut. He shakes his head, opens them again and makes sure Barry’s are too when he continues, “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Then he’s pressing forward once more, shoving their lips together with new intensity that Barry returns. He has no idea how far this will go, but he’s on board for anything Barry wants. If it’s just this, kissing on the floor in his living room, that’s good, though Hal may have to sneak off after to take care of himself. But he won’t force anything, he’s waited long enough for just this, and he’ll take as much time as needed to make Barry comfortable. 

He says as much to him when they break apart again. Barry just smiles genuinely, cups his hands over Hal’s cheeks and kisses him softly. He doesn’t say anything after, though, just moves to slide Hal’s shirt up and off, taking a moment to study his skin and scars before he kisses along the line of his collarbone. As he does so—leaves the gentle, loving kisses. Noses and breathes over skin – Hal nuzzles into his hair. He slowly unbuttons his shirt, pushing it apart when he’s done. Barry barely moves away when it’s slid off, still marking Hal’s chest until the man takes hold of him and pulls him back into a kiss.

After a short minute, Barry starts shifting as they kiss. Hal is ready to pull away and see the other man’s pants pulled halfway down his ass, but when he opens his eyes, it takes all of one second for the living room to disappear and the bedroom to replace it. He’s been placed onto the sheets, and Barry’s crawling up to crowd him into another kiss, and he’s not going to complain. Though, his fingers do play teasingly around the waist of Barry’s khakis, tugging the belt only to suggest. 

It takes a second for Barry to notice, and even less time for them to come off. And unsurprisingly, even  _less_  time for Hal’s to follow, leaving them both in their underwear. Hal pulls Barry in closer, mimicking how they were before, pressed until there’s no space between them. Barry’s body is so warm – his dick even hotter than the rest. Hal rocks up into him, chasing that warmth. Reaches and cups his hand around it, to Barry’s surprised pleasure. 

Hal takes that as a good sign that he’s alright to bear all, but he still takes his time removing their last bits of clothing. Keeping their eyes together as he does, searching for any doubt in Barry’s mind. But there’s none, and the items get kicked off and Hal savours the moment when they come together, skin on skin, and he feels the burning touch of vibration from the man above him. 

“Tricks,” he breathes, smirking, “Can you do that with any part of your body?”

Barry’s mouth hovers above his, cheeks burning red. Hesitantly, he darts his tongue out, touching it to Hal’s mouth and shows him. The tiniest of vibrations tickles along Hal’s tongue and lips, and he whines at how hot that is, what can be done with it. He parts his legs, and Barry slides easily between them.

“How about these?” he asks, threading their fingers together and brushing his over Barry’s, which give a short vibration in answer. He looks at their intertwined hands and grins.

“You okay with fingering me?” he asks bluntly, deciding that being upfront is the best way to gauge consent from his friend. 

Barry's hips kick forward. He swallows heavily and nods, “I’ve never--”

“I’ll help you,” Hal reassures him, then lifting his ring hand, flares the object to life, “Here’s one of my tricks.”

He opens the pocket dimension, to Barry’s amazement, and reaches inside. Searching for longer than he really wanted, he finally finds the bottle he’s looking for and brings it out. The dimension shuts, and the ring dims, and he presses it into Barry’s hand. 

“I can also make whatever toys I want,” he adds, raising his eyebrows. Dumbfounded, Barry only laughs, blue eyes brightening in a way that makes Hal’s breath catch. He shifts his leg to lift it over Barry’s hip, grabbing the bottle back and clicking it open.

“Fingers,” he demands, pouring a liberal amount onto them when they’re presented to him. He rubs the lube over them, coating them generously before guiding the hand down to his ass.

“One at a time. I’ll let you know when I’m ready for another one,” he explains simply, “And slow at first, alright?”

Barry nods, “Like a girl.”

“Don’t say that,” Hal gripes, “I’m a man. And I don’t self-lubricate, so if it feels dry or sticky add more lube.” 

“Sorry,” Barry says, “It’s kinda similar, though.”

Hal frowns at him but doesn’t say anything, knowing the comparison will probably help in the long run anyway. He doesn’t have much time to be mad as it is, because Barry decides then to push a finger inside. He takes Hal’s advice, going slow and keeping an eye on his reaction.

It weirdly clinical, and Hal’s had enough experience—does this often enough on himself that one finger isn’t causing too much discomfort. He nods when he feels Barry stop it at the knuckle, and shifts his hips when there’s no movement at first. 

It’s not enough to get much of a reaction from him, and Barry hasn’t quite found that spot. 

“Curl your finger when you slide out,” Hal says, and Barry does it. Hard enough for a small explosion of pleasure that has Hal moan low in his throat. It continues on like that, Barry watching him in awe, lips parted and cheeks pink, until Hal asks for another finger.

That’s when he feels the stretch, and he groans, swearing. He brings a hand to lift his leg more, letting Barry be able to fuck his fingers deeper into him, and he does once he sees how much Hal loves it. Once he’s sure it’s okay, he moves faster, causing Hal to cry out. With his free hand he grabs Hal’s other leg, lifting it higher as well and shifting in closer. Hal can feel his dick rub up over the crest of his hip, over his thigh as Barry presses in, and he moans over and over as the other man fucks and presses over that spot. 

He finally asks for a third and considers if he should ask for four, until Barry remembers his trick – the one that got them here in the first place – and vibrates those fingers as he fucks him. Hal shouts, head thrown back. He fists the sheets, hips rocking ineffectively. When he can’t produce the rhythm he wants, he grabs Barry’s arm.

“Stop,” he says, and everything stops immediately. Barry’s stock still, eyes wide and watching as Hal sits up, slowly removing the fingers from himself. He pushes Barry back onto the bed, lying him on his back, and climbing on top. Barry grabs his hips as he sits over him, stares up at him like he’s in a dream.

“Can I fuck--” he cuts himself off, and clears his throat, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Hal says, rubs a hand over Barry’s chest, “I’m down if you are.”

Barry nods, hands squeezing at Hal’s hips, “Do you want me to?”

It’s a weird question after Hal just said he was cool with that, but he doesn’t pay it much mind, because he definitely does want to, and has for a while.

“Fuck yeah.”

And Barry nods again. He reaches beside them for the lube to give to Hal, who spreads more on himself and over Barry’s dick. He positions himself over him and lowers down slowly. Barry’s mouth drops open, choking breath escaping as he enters Hal, who moans out loudly. 

He sits for a moment once he’s completely filled, letting himself adjust, as Barry runs his hands over his thighs comfortingly. Once he’s ready, however, he starts a fast rhythm, taking over in the way he wants. And Barry lets him, just holds tight to his hips and ass. And he watches, as Hal writhes over him, eyes lidded but focused. 

His grip squeezes every once in a while, – his hands so, so hot on Hal’s skin – when he moves in a certain way, when his head tilts back. The sudden vibration of his dick catches Hal off-guard but in the best way. He clamps down, hips coming to a stuttering stop as he curls into himself, keening and calling Barry’s name. It keeps going, but he’s able to get some sense of himself and flops down to shove their mouths together again. It’s the perfect addition to the sensations, but when he tries to keep rocking his hips, he can’t quite get the same speed as before and he grunts in frustration.

Barry shushes him, bends his knees to get leverage, and rocks his hips up into him, just above human speed. His arms come to wrap around Hal to keep him in place, keep him close and kissing, though Hal can’t really concentrate on that much with the amount of pleasure he’s feeling. So, he leans his head down, and Barry lavishes him.

It’s so much, being fucked so fast and hard, and the vibration, and the love he’s feeling in his chest and from his friend—his _best friend Barry_. He grasps onto him, crying out as he comes untouched, spurting over Barry’s stomach and chest. Barry coaxes him through it, slowing his pace as it ends, before coming to a complete stop. 

“Keep going,” Hal mumbles, nuzzling his face into Barry’s neck, “I want you to come in me.”

There’s no question about it. Barry breathes a moan and holds onto him, and starts up again. It doesn’t take long for him to come, a few seconds at most, but they’re the longest, best seconds of Hal’s life, topped off when Barry slips out, warmth spilling out with him. 

They take time to breathe after. Barry strokes over Hal’s back and sides, soothing. And Hal stretches out, languid and content after what was probably the best fuck of his life. His jizz sticks and spreads between their stomachs, and he can feel Barry’s cooling between his cheeks. He’s been to space, seen creatures and nebulas and sunsets his brain probably couldn’t fathom otherwise, and yet this is one of the most surreal experiences of his life. To be here, in Barry’s bed, cozied up in his chest after the man just fucked his brains out. 

He has to lean back, to make sure it wasn’t all in his head. That this is, in fact, Barry, not some guy he picked up, not some weird illusion. But he’s still there, blond hair and blue eyes. Button nose and high cheekbones and sharp jaw. That lightning scar that trails up the side of his neck and down to amass in the left center of his chest. The sweet smile that greets him almost every time they meet up. 

He returns it, leaning down to kiss reddened lips gently. 

“You okay?” he asks, though he knows if Barry weren’t, he wouldn’t be here. More likely speeding off around the planet a few times after giving Hal a shitty excuse so he can overthink everything. He’s here still, that’s what Hal focuses on.

“More than okay,” Barry replies, “Great. I feel great.”

Hal chuckles, “That’s the orgasm talking.”

“No,” Barry says, shaking his head, “A weight has been lifted off my chest. I’ve been carrying it around for so long and—and I was going to feel better just telling you but then--”

He grins, his hand comes up to cup Hal’s cheek, and he leans into it, kissing at the palm. They stay like that for a little while longer, basking in every good feeling that flits through their body, until Hal grows increasingly uncomfortable with the drying jizz everywhere. 

“Let’s wash up,” He says and gets up. When he stands and looks back to Barry, he notices the other man’s dick is still hard and points at it.

“Oh,” Barry says, rubbing at the back of his neck, “Another uh,  _trick_.”

Hal’s eyes widen, and he groans, climbing back on top of him and kissing him deeply. He feels the rumble of Barry’s laugh resonate in his mouth, and it almost distracts him from how Barry lifts them both up and carries him to the bathroom.

Hal moans, “This is the best thing we’ve ever done. We should do it again.”

“Yeah?” Barry says around a laugh.

“Hell yeah,” Hal replies, sliding his legs to stand when they get to the tub, “Often. Later even. Two more times today.”

Barry brings him in close, “I do have a lot to learn.”

“I’m a great teacher,” Hal preens, grinning. He leans down presses their lips together once more, and when he pulls back, Barry’s smiling up at him, eyes crinkled softly at the corners, filled with something neither will admit just yet. 


End file.
